


The pigeon with the pizza slice

by Nejinee



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Shy Bucky Barnes, Subways, Swearing, public transit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: The two hot guys had to get together. Darcy was not going to let the fact the two men were complete strangers get in her way. She was going to be the best Goddamn matchmaker this subway car had ever seen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! An idea that came to me like a rustle in the reeds. Enjoy!

It’s eleven AM and Darcy Lewis is actually thinking of how plausible her excuse would be if she just never showed up to Josie’s and said she’d fallen down a man-hole. Because honestly, truly? Darcy felt like she’d fallen down a man-hole, and not the sexy kind either.

How did people do this? How? How did they move around the city in the daylight hours and not suffer, riddled with hangover blues and an itchy hat that on further inspection is probably made of recycled coke bottles?

She looked around at the Thursday train-goers. What a bunch of shmucks (herself included). 

This wasn’t the rush hour crowd and not quite the lunch hour folks. These were the in-betweeners like herself; The people destined to ride the subway between jobs, between life-stops and classes and death. Everyone just sat there, quiet, staring into space. How Goddamn boring.

She pulled out her phone to check the time. Sweet. She was only gonna be two hours late. Not too shabs.

The train pulled to a stop and a few people got up to shuffle out, as shuffling was the apparent thing people at this hour did. Nine AM was for power-walking, strutting. Three AM was for stumbling and whining about blisters and stupid cabbies. Eleven AM was for shuffling.

God, this ride was gonna take forever. A couple people shuffled onto the train. Darcy was facing the direction of the travel, so the seat beside her was jammed with her overflowing bags and miscellaneous shit. The train got going again after its usual series of bing-bongs.

The two seats perpendicular to her, right in front of her, were empty. One had a mysterious stain, so it was probably good the guy who sat down had to sit down closer to her. Like, right in front, so his profile was _right there_.

Because _damn, son_.

Darcy was totally staring. Oh yes she was. How could she not?

This guy? _This guy_? Total beefcake. She gazed around the car, hoping to get some agreeable nods with strangers, kinda like, ‘You seein’ this, Mike? Beefcake bonanza, amirite?”

_Huh._

Not a single person even looked up. _Come on, people._

Fine, whatever.

She looked back at this guy. Okay, so maybe he was doing a good job of _not_ shining bright likea diamond. The ball cap over his brown, longish hair obscured his face, and the khaki jacket and grey t-shirt were pretty basic, pretty worn-in. He had a hefty tear in his jeans and his sneakers were well-loved. He scooted a little in his seat, making room between his feet to slot his plain black backpack. So he was at least polite enough not to take up as much room as possible.

Darcy eyed her own bags. 

However, under all that hobo-chic _blah_ was a strong, seriously cut jaw with some subtle fuzz; And tan hands (clean nails) and a set of really nice lips. And as much as he tried to not take up too much space, this guy just managed to look like a huge dude jammed into the tiniest seat available. Like a cabbage in the brussel sprouts. Like a surfboard in a skate shop. Like a five-dollar foot-long in a salad bar.

Oh yeah, Darcy was staring. This was nice. Like having your own gallery viewing on the subway. She smiled. _Thank you, Jesus, for bringing the culture to me_.

Guy was hunched over a little, kinda staring at the floor. Looked fairly young. Couldn’t be thirty, not yet. Student? She scanned him for anything obvious. The side pocket of his backpack had a ratty paperback jammed in there. She couldn’t quite see what it was, but it looked A+ boring to the max, whatever it was. It was yellowed and thick, and clearly well-read.

So _maybe_ a student. Or a night-shift worker. Construction? Hmm. His hands looked pretty clean, but roughened, so maybe.

The train slowed a little too sharply, jostling some of the folks standing by the door. When it jolted into the station, a few groans and grumbles went up from the exiting groups.

Quite a few people got out here.

Hat-guy barely blinked.

The train moved on. The more Darcy eyed him, the more she started to enjoy this terrible morning of commuting halfway across town. Sure, when you spent most of your time helping your giant nerd best friend get _her_ shit down, it was nice to finally get down to your own business. And yeah, she hadn’t been to see Josie in forever, so this visit was long overdue, but the commute? _Ugh._ She grinned to herself. Hat-guy was a nice distraction. There was a serious lack of eye candy in her neighborhood. She considered putting an idea forward at the next city council meeting (once she figured out where city council meetings were held). A traveling eye-candy train. Jam it full of hotties and let the plebes enjoy their commutes.

_I’m so smart,_ she thought to herself. _A powerhouse of industry._

The train rolled into the next station and more of the car emptied. A couple dude-bros got on. Darcy eyed them, fully judging them already. That is, until the tall one, the blonde, noticed an oldie struggling with her pull-cart over the gap. He leapt forward and helped her out and with a toothy smile too.

Huh, okay, maybe not a complete dude-bro. 

Blondie rejoined his friend, by the opposite door. They leaned against the glass partitions, chattering away.

His friend was cute. Darcy had a fondness for gap teeth.

“Aw, Sam, you know I got a paper due, right? I’m gonna have to miss this one.”

“Rogers, don’t get me started. Mama’s expecting you.” this Sam-guy countered.

“I know,” Blondie murmured sheepishly. “Tell her I’m sorry, but I gotta write fifteen thousand words by Monday and I haven’t even got my outline done.”

Sam-guy rolled his eyes dramatically and folded his arms as the train jostled onwards. “You know she’s gonna still bake like twelve extra potatoes just for you. And then she’s gonna make me haul it in tupperware or some shit, like I’m your damn butler.”

Darcy smirked at the muttered “Pain in my ass, I swear.”

Blondie was looking extra sheepish, rubbing his giant hand over the back of his neck. He ruffled his hair making it poke out a bit. 

Darcy blinked.

_Well, howdy, fella_.

Was it supermodel Thursday or something? Once she got past the brown leather jacket and the thin blue sweater, almost dude-bro-ish attire, and shiny white sneakers, she kinda realized Blondie over here was _muy loco_ _smokin’._

He was tall and obviously aware of it, judging by the way he kept his head lowered. He was wearing khakis for Christ’s sake. Slim-cut, sure, but like, actual legit khakis. What a _nerd._

She squinted. Damnit, Darcy wasn’t awake enough to consider her options here. This smorgasbord of hotness wasn’t fair. She rifled through her handbag, pulling out her glasses. Oh, much better. Now she could _really see._

_I mean, look at those shoulders_ , she thought with a huff. What was he? An olympic diver? A gold-medallist in the _fuck-me-sideways decathlon_?

Damnit, and he blinked all abashedly while his friend chastised him for being a good student, studying some shit about history, or whatever. A giant nerd with a dorky smile and big hands and was nice to old ladies? _Come on._

Darcy considered joining a college, ‘cos if this was the prime beef the universities had on order, she was _ready_ to get a damn education!

Not financially ready, but body-ready.

She wanted to commiserate with Jane on this, but Jane wasn’t here. Jane was probably with Thor. Whatever, true love, eternal happiness and joy, yadda yadda.

So Darcy turned and actually felt her salacious thoughts about throwing herself at the two dude-bros, Lady Macbeth-style, grind to a halt.

Oh - HO!

Well would you look at _that._ Hat-guy had _also_ noticed Blondie, if his face was anything to go by. If Darcy were any kind of lady she’d press her fingers to her lips and whisper _Oh, my!_ But Darcy Lewis ain’t no lady. She just grinned and grinned and grinned.

_Oh, Hat-guy,_ she wanted to purr. _You poor sucker._

Because, of course, Hat-guy was looking at Blondie, then skating his eyes away, then looking up carefully again, all while his fingers played a game of knots between his knees. It was adorable!

Fuck, she actually felt her heart swell two sizes.

What was this madness? She glanced over at Blondie, then back at Hat-guy. Okay, so now she had her glasses on: wow. Look at those baby-blues! And those lashes. And those legs. 

Damnit, boy.

Blondie was still yammering with Sam-guy, clearly oblivious to the heart-eyes wafting his way.

Darcy looked at Hat-guy. Oh, man. Too precious.

Hat-guy was now wiping his hands on his jeans, then straightening his jacket. He sat up a little straighter, but still couldn’t keep his eyes in one place.

This was like a Korean drama, so majestic.

Darcy was going to witness something magical, the coming together of two souls. Or two hot guys mackin’ on each other. Either was good. She’d pay good money to watch these two go all Brokeback in front of her. 

The stupid good-for-nothing train came to a stop and Blondie and friend made to move. Darcy was _this_ close to leaping after them, not letting them leave, when the opposite doors opened this time, the ones they’d been leaning near.

Oh.

So Sam-guy and Blondie moved inwards, letting a mass of other people jam themselves onto the train. 

Phew.

A bony, gollum-like dude who smelled like the back-end of a Pepto-bismal meltdown glared at Darcy and her bags. She just glared right back.

Gollum looked at the stained seat beside Hat-guy and actually considered sitting on said stain, until Hat-guy looked up.

Gollum paused, then retreated. Huh. Guess not everyone thought the dude with the ripped physique was worth sitting next to.

_Yeah, go back to the mountains,_ Darcy glared.

On the plus side, Blondie and Sam-guy were closer, now holding onto the straps hanging from the ceiling; The straps only tall people could reach. Darcy always wondered what it was like to stand there and not fall into other peoples’ crotches every time the train lurched.

On the negative side, a trio of young women now sat down on the seats opposite and they too had noticed Blondie standing there. One of them was stroking her own hair, eyes not moving from Blondie’s face. Her friends weren’t much better.

Darcy looked at Hat-guy. Hopefully he wasn’t discourag-

_Damnit_ , she thought hotly.

Hat-guy was pouting a little, eyes soft, head down. FUCK HE’S CUTE.

Darcy’s insides did a weird, angry bellyflop.

Okay, like hell she was gonna let anyone get distracted here.

Game plan.

She gallantly knighted herself, decreeing her to be this Hat-guy’s Fairy Godmother, or whatever the modern equivalent would be. She’d be his Tim Gunn. His Ellen. And she was gonna play on his behalf.

_Blondie_ , she thought. _Watch out._

So Darcy did what she did best, she made a freakin’ mess. She unzipped her bag, moved her knee and when her handbag tipped over, every item inside rolled out into the wild of the subway car. 

“Oh, Dangit!” she cried loudly.

Hat-guy almost jumped out of his skin. But he bent forward, hand going to stop her bag from actually hitting the herpes-infested subway car floor.

But Darcy wasn’t looking for that.

She grinned. 

No, see, she’d been casting her net wider. _Gon’ get a big ‘un._

And just as she expected, Blondie had turned at the sound and immediately crouched down, trying his darn-tootin’ best to gather up her myriad of supplies rolling everywhere.

Darcy wanted to squeal. This brought Blondie closer, as others shifted around him, clearly not wanting to assist, but willing to give him room to move. 

“Here you go, miss,” he said, crouched down, two handfuls of lipsticks and coins and papers at the ready. 

“Thanks, buddy!” Darcy smiled, opening her bag wide. He just dropped her things in, then bent down to try gather up the rest. 

Lord, he was sweet. He didn’t even blush when he handed over a fistful of unopened, brightly colored, neon tampons. Now _here_ was a guy.

“Hold on,” Blondie huffed, actually sliding to his knees right in front of Hat-guy. He bent down, long arm heading under the seat. Hat-guy’s eyes almost popped out of his face.

He had to actually open his legs while Blondie scrabbled about down there like some kind of tunnel creature.

Sam-guy just looked mortified, face covered by a hand. “Why are you like this?” he muttered. Darcy had a feeling this Blondie got himself into a lot of weird shit.

Blondie was also wearing a backpack, now Darcy could see it. It was blue and had a white star on it. How fuckin’ cute could he get? DISGUSTING.

Blondie finally emerged with another lipstick tube. His hair was a wreck. He smiled so wide, Darcy was blinded a little.

“Oh, thanks,” she said loudly. “My favorite shade. Aren’t you a peach?” What the _fuck_ was she saying?

Blondie chuckled, “You’re welcome.”

And then. AND _THEN_. Blondie put his hand on Hat-guy’s knee, fully intending to stand up. But he seemed to realize the knee was not, in fact, a structural part of the train, and so Blondie looked up.

“Oh,” he blinked, pulling his hand back.

Tha-dump.

Swans took flight. The planets aligned. Glittering turquoise waves broke upon the shore of unfettered, limitless potential. Heart-eyes everywhere.

Darcy held in a squeal.

Blondie’s mouth kind of dropped open as he tried to get up, clearly struggling with his limbs. “Sorry, uh, didn’t mean to-um.” He actually wobbled when the train came to a juddering halt, grabbing the pole in front of Darcy. His backpack strap slipped down and he awkwardly tugged it up. He blinked and smiled at Hat-guy. “Sorry.”

Hat-guy just kind of blushed. “No problem,” he rumbled, barely audible. Hat-guy subtly tried to make it look like he hadn’t just spread his legs for a stranger.

HAH!

Okay, SO, Blondie wasn’t as hetero as he appeared. _Wonderful._

“Make babies,” she blurted.

Both men turned to her.

“Excuse me?” Blondie uttered.

_Damnit, mouth-hole_. “I’m Darcy,” she said loudly. “Thanks, both of you, for helping.”

Hat-guy just looked at her like she was insane.

“Uh, you’re welcome, Darcy,” Blondie said with more manners. Not born in a barn, then. “Steve. I’m Steve, I mean. Rogers.”

“Hi, Steve Rogers,” Darcy said loudly, slowly, eyes sliding to Hat-guy. _Your turn, buddy._ His eyes just widened comically, before his brows furrowed darkly. 

She stared daggers. _I_ said, _your_ turn, _motherfucker. I ain’t no half-assed Fairy Godmother. You give this strange handsome boy your fuckin’ dumbass name. I didn’t let my lady supplies touch this disease-riddled floor for you to NOT find your soulmate._

 

He stared back, obviously picking up on her telepathy and not wanting to comply in the least.

Darcy’s smile was painted on. _You little shit._

So she turned to look up at Steve Rogers. “Steve Rogers, this is,” she opened her hand, indicating Hat-guy. “Um … Gosh, I don’t know. What is your name again?”

This Steve guy was attentive now. For a moment, Darcy was worried he’d thought she was hitting on him. But nay, Blondie was looking at Hat-guy like he’d never seen the stars before. REVOLTING.

“I never said my name. I don’t know you,” Hat-guy growled. Oh, wow. What a voice. What an attitude. Mmmm.

Darcy laughed shriekishly loud. “Oh, _you!”_

She just smiled wide at him and blinked once.

Steve Rogers fidgeted a little.

Sam-guy was clearly beside himself if his shaking shoulders meant much.

The awkwardness settled like a damp fog. Darcy was cool, she’d done worse. Like that time she’d bumped into that guy she’d been dating and _his wife_. Yikes. What a douche.

Hat-guy glanced up at Steve Rogers and their varying-degrees-of-blue eyes met. Goddamn, Darcy could practically feel the sexual tension oozing out all over. It was glorious. This was her heroin.

“Buh–e…” Hat-guy murmured through his teeth.

“Bugsy? What?” Darcy leaned in close, hand cupped around her ear. “Is that your name? Buggy? Butty? Butt-buddy? What?”

Dude just looked up and _glared._

“ _Bucky_. I said, my name is Bucky,” he growled, all fierce like a kitten.

“Oh, Bucky!” _Fuckin’ name is that? Oh well, work with what I got._ She turned to look at Steve Rogers. “Steve! This is Bucky! Bucky? Steve!”

 

_Normal, squeaky-clean-Ken-doll, meet grumpy, possibly homeless but buff-as-hell King of the gremlins._

 

Oh Lord, they _both_ went all pink. TOO PRECIOUS.

 

Sam-guy snorted and looked away, still laughing, apparently.

“Hi,” Steve said with a weird little dorky wave.

Darcy caught one of the women across the aisle glaring at her. Darcy just grinned wider. _Step-off,_ she thought loudly. Jane was gonna be so proud of her. 

She was Shakespeare. She was the dove with the olive branch, bringing hope to all mankind. Or was it a pigeon? She was the pigeon with the pizza slice.

When the train stopped, Steve was jostled a bit as people got off. He loomed closer, still holding onto the rail. He smelled kind of nice.

“So, Steve,” Darcy asked loudly, not giving a hoot who could hear. The doors binged closed. “What you studying?” _Male anatomy, perhaps? Wink wink._

Steve blinked at her. “Uh, how’d you know I’m–“

“I’m a fuckin’ rocket scientist,” she said.

“Oh,” he answered. “Okay, then. Well. I’m a History major. Word War II mostly.”

Bugsy’s hands twitched. Bucky. Bucky’s hands.

“Fascinating,” Darcy said slowly. Fucking dull. How was she supposed to work with this shit?

“And you?” she turned to Bucky. “You like World War II stuff? You a history nerd?”

Bucky scoffed. But she saw his foot shift, right beside that crusty, old paperback. “No,” he uttered. Not a history buff? Or not a nerd?

“Hey now, I’m just making chit-chat,” Darcy sighed. “What’s a girl to do when two really hot, and I mean like flaming hot-tamale hot, guys help her out in a time of need?”

Both of them flushed brightly.

“You just dropped your shit,” Bucky muttered, tugging his hat lower. “Didn’t do nothin’.”

“And I’m not–“Steve stuttered, “We’re not, I mean, I’m not. He might– We’re–“

Darcy just made out Sam-guy uttering, “Dude, you are a _mess_.”

Steve was very, very pink in the face now, eyes shooting to Bucky and back.

This would have been the perfect moment to announce she could legally marry them in the State of New York, when the announcement overhead blared too loud in her ears.

“Fuck,” Bucky groused. He stood abruptly, clearly not thinking this through. He came face-to-face with Steve Rogers, whose eyes had been tracking him. Bucky jerked a little, looking down. He couldn’t back away though, so Steve awkwardly shuffled backwards. “This is my stop,” Bucky murmured, embarrassed.

He bent down, trying to get his little backpack, but that ended up with his face coming alarmingly close to Steve’s hips and making the blonde inhale sharply. Bucky jolted up, backpack in hand.

People started shoving, trying to get out as the doors binged open.

“This is our stop too,” Steve said breathily, eyes tracking Bucky’s face as the two of them were jostled some more. Sam-guy was already out. _Move in together,_ Darcy thought loudly.

Bucky stared at Steve and bit his own lip.

Lord, this was too much.

“Hey, you two don’t get moving, this won’t be anyone’s stop,” Darcy crowed.

Both men looked down at her and she smiled.

Bucky cocked his head to the side. “Okay, then. Go.”

_Atta boy_ , Darcy thought proudly. _My sweet child. Go forth and bone._

“Excuse me?” Bucky turned sharply.

“Oh, did I say that out loud? My bad!”

Darcy gave him a shove and he fell into Steve as the blonde tried to wiggle out the train.

“Uh, nice to meet you, Darcy,” Steve waved.

The doofus was so distracted making sure Bucky was following that the doors actually slammed shut on him and bounced back loudly when he not only got his leg caught, but slammed his head into the glass.

Bucky smiled.

Darcy grinned when she saw him gently press his palm to Steve Rogers’ back, guiding him off the train and onto the platform.

Success! 

When the doors finally closed, Darcy looked out onto the platform and saw the two of them standing awkwardly, shifting around. Sam-guy was off to the side, texting furiously.

She had only a few seconds, but she distinctly saw Bucky murmur something and Steve responded with a smile so wide, it was like a sunrise.

“Aww yiss!” she fist-bumped the air when Bucky pulled out a cellphone from the depths of his jean pocket and handed it to Steve. Exchanging numbers! Sex! Wedding! 

And the train started to roll out of the station, the vision of bountiful love sliding away wistfully.

“Fuckin’ _poetry_ ,” Darcy crowed. A couple people eyed her. “What? That was romantical, okay?”

She saw quite a few people staring now.

“Oh, whatever, you’re all dead inside. Romance is everywhere, peons! In all colours, all shapes and sizes. I just got two hot pockets together! If you can’t dig it, then you might as well stick it where the–OH FUCK! WAIT! That was MY STOP!”

 

—

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! \o/


End file.
